


For All the Span of His Days

by allierrachelle



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Injury Recovery, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 06:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14806355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allierrachelle/pseuds/allierrachelle
Summary: Damen and Laurent are able to share a private moment together in the wake of the trial.





	For All the Span of His Days

**Author's Note:**

> Someday my fics will stop being so soft and predictable but today isn't that day.
> 
> I didn't actually intend to post anything for Captive Prince month, it just worked out that way! Funnily enough, today's prompt is "A Kingdom or This", which I think this fits pretty well. Hope you enjoy!

Damen awoke slowly, his vision blurry around the edges as he came-to. The room was dark and quiet, the moon acting as the only source of light, a dim glow streaming through the window. Opening his eyes was a chore; keeping them open was almost an impossibility. He laid in the stillness of the room, breathing in and deliberately ignoring the throb in his abdomen as he let his lungs fill. Time seemed to drag in a way that was not natural, so he didn’t bother to establish a sense of it, allowing his limbs to settle into the sheets. Wearily, he turned his head to the bedside table where a vial sat alongside a shallow cup and a pitcher of water.

A drug. He did not remember taking it. With a great deal of effort, Damen could hazily conjure up the memory of Laurent making directives for the room to be cleared for the night. Before that, he could recall the urgent and bothersome administrations of the palace physicians and the light touches from Laurent that he could occasionally feel upon his arm as he came in and out of consciousness. He remembered being distantly aware that around him, Ios was in chaos, but acutely aware that Laurent was taking care of it all in his stead.

Damen smirked, pleased with the notion of Laurent ruling within Akielon walls. 

As he rolled his head to the side, he noticed for the first time the form in his bed. Curled up on top of the covers lay Laurent, a fold of the white sheets held loosely between his fingers. Damen felt a warmth flood his chest, new and illicit. He stretched a hand toward Laurent’s face, soft with deep sleep. The light touch he traced across his cheekbone sent sparks up his thumb. The skin underneath Laurent’s eyes was dark but he otherwise looked peaceful, in a sleep deeper than Damen had ever seen him in. As he let his eyes roam down his sleeping figure, it was with a painful lurch of his heart that he noticed the tattered a bloodied chiton hanging on his body. Time eluded Damen in this state, but if the ache in his muscles and joints was any indication, he had been unconscious for a considerable amount of time. Laurent had not changed in the meantime. Damen wondered, with a considerable amount of worry settling in his stomach, if Laurent had left his side at all.

To know that Laurent wanted to be close to him like this was a heady feeling. Slowly, Damen’s fingers spread against Laurent’s cheek, allowing himself to savor a quiet moment of privacy, not knowing when the two of them would get another. He let fingers trace the features of Laurent's face, his proud cheekbones and full lips, all softened by sleep. He had the slightest crease between his eyebrows and Damen indulged himself in grazing it with his thumb, taking pleasure in watching the skin soften and smooth. At that, Laurent’s eyelids began to twitch, his face turning slightly into the pillow as if to escape the disturbance before his eyes slowly opened.

“I’m sorry,” Damen whispered, his voice rough and dry. He pulled his hand back, feeling as if he had been caught touching something precious that he was not supposed to touch. “I didn't mean to wake you.”

“Damen,” Laurent said, pushing himself upright as he quickly gained awareness of his surroundings, blue eyes wide in the dim room. He reached his hands out to Damen’s body, stopping as if he did not know where or how to touch him without hurting him. “You’re awake.”

“Halfway. How long have I been unconscious?”

Laurent’s gaze raced across Damen’s face, down his torso, as if he could not believe that he was awake and well. “You slept through all of yesterday. Paschal said that you would likely wake soon, but you could barely retain consciousness and your heart kept getting faster and --” Laurent cut himself off suddenly, his eyes secured to Damen’s face. “You lost a lot of blood,” he finished simply.

“I can see that,” Damen said, his eyes dropping to the stains of red that covered Laurent’s chiton. Laurent's cheeks grew dark and he shifted his eyes down.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I wanted to be here when you woke,” he explained.

Damen was beginning to break through his grogginess, trying to focus on Laurent’s worried face. He looked as he did when Damen had been lying on the bloodied, cold floors of the slave baths: worry layered on top of a brimming, overwhelming hope. Damen felt it within himself as well, the yearning that threatened to burst through his stitches, tainted only by the fact that he had to worry about stitches at all.

“Are you in pain?” Laurent asked, shifting, much to Damen’s dissatisfaction, quickly out of their shared bed and across the room to a small table of vial and pitchers and clean wrappings. Damen simply hummed. He was, in fact, in pain, but if his pain was going to warrant Laurent leaving him alone in bed, then he could swallow it for now. 

“I am fine.”

“I thought you would have learned by now that you are a poor liar, Damen.” 

_Damen._ It still sounded surreal coming from Laurent’s lips.

“I am not--” 

“Sit up. Your bandage must be changed,” Laurent directed, walking back to the bed with a handful of supplies he had taken from the table.

“My bandage is fine,” Damen protested, even as he felt Laurent peel silk linen away from his torso.

“I told the physicians that I would stay in here for the night and have been given instruction to --”

Damen grasped Laurent’s wrist as he pinched the pin that kept the wrappings fastened. 

“Laurent,” he murmured. The earnestness in his own voice surprised him, as well as the wave of need that accompanied it. The distance between then was unbearable suddenly. “Rest with me.” 

Laurent steadily met Damen’s gaze. He looked as though he was on the verge of speaking but hesitantly decided against it, choosing instead to sweep a curl away from Damen’s forehead. 

“If your wrappings aren't changed, your wound can become infected and worsen.” When Damen opened his mouth to reject, he was promptly silenced by a kiss on his forehead. It was an unexpectedly sweet gesture, one that Damen could not recall ever receiving before. “I’m worried enough as it is.”

Damen closed his mouth at that.

Sitting up with the guidance of Laurent’s hand on his shoulder, it began to feel possible that Damen had perhaps underestimated the severity of his wound. He inhaled a sharp breath through his teeth as he arranged himself upright, feeling grateful to have not missed the flash of concern across Laurent’s face at the sound. Laurent’s hands were gentle and sure in their administrations and the two of them fell into a comfortable silence together, Laurent keenly focused on Damen’s injury and Damen keenly focused on how the candlelight made the swathes of Laurent’s bare skin look warm and inviting. It felt out-of-place, he supposed, to revel in the companionship of a man who was now responsible for his brother’s death. And yet, the delight was there all the same. The two of them had that in common now, in their own ways. 

He didn’t want to dwell on it -- not now. Trying his best to keep his torso as still as possible, Damen reached his hand out once again to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind Laurent’s ear, enjoying the opportunity to watch heat rise back into Laurent’s pale face.

“You’ve really been worried about me?” He already knew the answer; he could see it on Laurent’s face from the moment he had entered the baths, anxiously calling out Damen’s name. Still, it delighted him to hear Laurent say it out loud.

Laurent’s returning glare would have been much harsher had it not been for the gentle tug of a clean bandage around his waist. Damen watched with delight as Laurent’s lips curled and tightened. He wanted to kiss them.

“You would be, were the roles reversed.”

“I was,” Damen said simply. “I wasn’t sure that you would be alive when arrived.”

Laurent pinned Damen’s bandage together. “And you came anyway.”

“I did.”

Laurent was quiet for a moment, packing his handful of medical supplies back up and placing them aside before suddenly, wonderfully, he was kissing him. Damen clutched Laurent close, his fingers caught up and knotted with handfuls of blonde hair. Time seemed to pass in waves, slipping away as he kissed Laurent inside his own palace. He had the future King of Vere in bed alongside him within the walls of the King’s chambers. The knowledge made his stomach curl.

“Idiot,” Laurent murmured against Damen’s lips.

“So you’ve said.”

Damen could feel it, what lay between them; a decision made as he lay in his own blood. He was not sure how to bring it up -- was not entirely sure that it was even real or if it was something he had only imagined in a drugged and hazy state. Absurdly, he felt anxiety gnaw at his gut.

“We made plans to spend a week together at the summer palace,” he tested. “I couldn’t let you back out of that.”

Laurent nodded. Into the stillness, he replied delicately, “We made plans to do more than that.”

The silence between them was heavy and severe. The reality of their decision lay bare between them -- it had not been a hallucination.

“It will be difficult,” Damen said cautiously. 

Laurent nodded. “Extremely.”

“It may be violent.” 

“I anticipate it.” 

“To know the odds are not in our favor and yet do it anyway; are we being foolish?”

Laurent carefully placed his hands on either side of Damen’s face. With tentative movements that Laurent offered only to Damen, he slowly leaned in and pressed his lips against Damen’s once more. The kiss was chaste and reassuring and Damen didn’t work to deepen it. It was the kind of kiss given in bleary mornings. It was a kiss of victory. Breaking away, Laurent tucked his head into Damen’s neck.

“I don’t believe we have ever been anything else.”

Damen hummed contentedly. It was true; foolishness had gotten them this far.

Laurent continued, his lips upturned against Damen’s neck, “Though I must confess, I’ve perhaps become lazy in the last few months. I have grown used to having a confidant; I’m not entirely sure I could run a kingdom without one anymore.” Laurent was silent for a beat, his tone suddenly serious. “Selfishly, I don’t want to.”

On his way to Ios and throughout the trial, Damen had not let his mind wander toward the possibility of victory. The chance of failure was great and deadly. The only thought that occupied his mind was that Laurent needed him; the rest was instinctual, his body moving on its own, fulfilling a promise that he had made just days before. 

_You are not alone_ , he had promised.

“You don’t have to,” Damen whispered. He allowed himself to feel it then, the sharp light that flared warm within his chest. He saw it reflected in the blue of Laurent’s eyes and the excited way he hovered above him as if he would throw his arms around him and press him into the bedding were it not for fear of tearing any stitches. “Kiss me again.”

“You’re demanding when bedridden,” Laurent said, obliging nonetheless. He smiled into the kiss, making it hard to continue. Foolishly, Damen felt the expression mirrored on his own face.

“We won, Laurent.” 

Laurent pulled back with a nod and Damen felt alight at Laurent's transformative grin. It had been a rare sight that Damen was beginning to see more frequently, much to his own satisfaction.

“We did. As soon as you are healed, you owe me a trip to that palace of yours.”

It was unwise to step away from leadership having just barely claimed their respective thrones, but this was another promise he had made, and he intended to keep it. Damen looked up at Laurent above him and felt alight with the promises that lay out before them. A kingdom. A lifetime.

“It’s ours,” Damen corrected with a grin. “And I suppose I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from this quote: "The thought of days of bed rest and physicians was made sweeter by the thought of Laurent alongside him, making barbed remarks in public, and in private, newly tender. He thought, Laurent alongside him for all the span of his days."


End file.
